Not The Face, But The Expressions On It
by Lelelea
Summary: Feels Winter Wind was tasked with bringing down the human resistance. He had successfully subdued his host and given up Arthur Kirkland's brothers to his kind to be processed for information about the resistance. He has a house and finishes his paperwork on time. He even went on a date a few weeks back. His life is in perfect order. Or is it? (Has some OC/OC and is mostly USUK).
1. Chapter 1

There's a soundtrack to this, which I will be posting later.  
A rather serious problem in slash fic is that sex is often inaccurately portrayed. I would definitely love some help that stops me from fucking up sex scenes.

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_Alfred's body rolled with his, perfectly in sync and buried deep within him. His mouth was sealed to Arthur's, and when the smaller man broke away, gasping for air, Alfred merely latched onto his throat, sucking and nipping his way down to Arthur's collarbone. He tugged feebly at Alfred's shirt._

_"Get this bloody thing off," he grunted. Alfred obliged, flinging the damp outerwear across the room and Arthur was rewarded with a glorious glimpse of rippling muscle under tanned skin. Their harsh breaths echoed in the room and Arthur was dangerously close to coming. As if on cue, Alfred began to stroke him, slow and steady. His arm was balanced next to Arthur's head and Arthur took the opportunity to slide the palm of his hand up the younger man's arm until his fingers were in the other man's hair._

_When he came, Alfred collapsed on top of him. Groaning, Arthur pushed him off. Alfred threw his arm over Arthur's stomach and kissed his shoulder, spooning him as he did so._

_"I love you Arthur," he said._

Feels Winter Wind hated his errant memories, hated how the thought of Alfred Jones made his toes involuntarily curl in his loafers, hated how Francis' touch was a mere warmth compared to how the man kissed him in his dreams. It was pure luck that prevented the dreams from being a nightly occurrence. Arthur Kirkland lay dormant within his mind, but sometimes, when Winter felt particularly vulnerable, he could feel the human underneath the surface. He had never tried to hold a conversation with the man, boring as he seemed with his accounting job at a firm. Social mobility for Kirkland came when Winter had proved that slightly built men could be exceptionally fast at catching people. His mouth curled. The Seekers had made a mistake, thinking this one was part of the resistance. Arthur Kirkland was no Melanie Stryder. Running a comb through his hair, he slicked it back, studying his reflection. Green eyes ringed with silver stared back.

He'd put down rebellions on three worlds. He was one of the best. When Mother had made her Sacrifice, giving birth to the next generation at the expense of her existence, he had been born with a tiny piece of her pride and hunger for success. Feels Winter Wind was not like his kind, because of the simple fact that he was a pragmatic soul. He was a soldier.

When he walked into his office, Natasha followed him in. "Seeker Inrani wants to speak with you. She said it was important."

He nodded. "Anything of interest occurring on the news?" It was a running gag that he did not own a television.

"All quiet on the western front." She left and Winter snorted at the table, shaking his head. He'd left the mission report on the spy they'd found under a pile of papers that needed to be signed. Snagging it, he made his way to his superior's office, waiting quietly as she spoke to another man. A few strands of gray gleamed in her smooth black hair and he caught himself wondering why she didn't color it. He walked in as soon the room was empty.

"Punctual as usual, Seeker. I could set my clock by you."

"Good morning."

She smirked, pleased at his discomfort. Inrani had the uncanny ability to unsettle people at a whim. Winter had seen her with humans, how her voice became lower, gentler as she convinced them that the souls were there to help them, that their rebel propaganda was wrong. She adjusted the steel rimmed glasses perched on her nose, an affectation from her human days, and pressed play on a remote.

"You parasites have done nothing but take our bodies and crush our souls with yours. As if a worm could ever be a replacement for a human soul," Alfred Jones sneered from the screen, "as if your pathetic ways would ever be anything other than..pathetic."

When had Alfred learned to look so scornful?

Inrani paused the video. "This was sent to us five hours ago. There is no timestamp, no geotag that could help us find where this came from. The gist of it is that Alfred Jones is not your usual rebel. He was part of the United States Navy and was on leave when we arrived on this planet. He claims to actively disdain all form of passive negotiations and will use any means necessary to wipe our kind out. I called you here," she raised a finger to stop his reply, "because you knew this human before."

"You want me to find him." It wasn't a question.

"I knew you'd catch on quick. You, Feels Winter Wind, are the brightest, most talented Seeker in the organization. Who better than Alfred Jones' former husband?"

His desire to strangle her must have flitted across his face, because Inrani held up placating hands. "That's information on a strictly need to know basis, Winter Wind. None know except for me and your Healer." Her voice dropped an octave. "I realize that this will be traumatic for you, and I truly am sorry for this. You must do your best to keep him alive when you bring him in."

"Has anyone else tried to capture him?" He tapped his index and middle fingers together, a nervous habit he'd retained from Kirkland.

"Yes. They found Seeker Ryo's body about half an hour ago, I believe. Dances With Leaves had been ripped out of her body-"

"I understand Seeker Inrani. You needn't go into details."

"No you don't," she said icily. "If you die, morale plummets. If you die, I lose one of my best men. And if you defect to the other side, we will lose this war. People do the strangest things for love, Seeker."

"You speak with quite a bit of authority on this matter."

Winter's insinuation was not lost on her and she smiled wryly, steepling her fingers. The skyline of the city gleamed behind her and he felt something cringe inside him at the thought that he'd have to leave civilization in order to find a psychotic murderer.

"It's my job to sound like the boss. Now make like a library and book." She reclined in her chair, appearing to lose herself in the mission report he'd bought and ignoring him entirely.

He had to give it to the woman, she was creative.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis showed up at his office near about three, and sidled into one of the chairs.

"I was wondering if you would be free near the end of the week. Perhaps, we could go to the concert?"

Winter smiled at him. Kirkland had been attracted to the body that housed Sleeps With Dragons once, and the human had seen him as an irritant-something to do with sexual harassment? But he'd slept with him as well.

"Ask me again at the end of the week, and maybe I'll consider it."

"_Oui_," he smiled. "I heard Seeker Inrani was angry at you?"

"She wants me to find Alfred Jones and try to talk him out of his senseless violence. Francis, Seeker Inrani is always angry at everyone. Her mysterious boyfriend is the only one who can deal with her."

"You know," said Francis reflectively, watching Winter sign off on paper after paper, "you and Inrani are the only ones who are still like the people you were before we souls came."

Winter's pen stilled. "What do you mean?"

"Annesha Inrani was always domineering and incisive with her words. I'm not sure whether she has successfully subdued the human inside her. You have always been a prickly creature, one prone to running away when someone approaches you. Arthur Kirkland hid his secrets almost jealously and so do you. Winter, _mon chou_, you know why you are a Seeker? Why you are not out leading lives like us? Because you live for the battle."

"Get out."

Francis smiled wistfully. "I hope you find someone who truly understands you, Seeks Winter Wind."

Winter was left staring after him. Francis, as usual, had found his sore spots and poked until he had snapped. A flash of satisfaction ran through him and he froze completely.

That had not been his emotion.

Winter went back to signing papers, slower than before. It must have been due to this unpredictable new body. He had vastly preferred the other one. Ivan Braginski had been easy to subdue, and Winter still had not grown used to Kirkland's much smaller hands.

Everybody had left and Winter was still in his office, holding a transcript of Jones' threatening speech. He stood before a bulletin board, putting pins in the map of the United States, marking the locations where the terrorist had been sighted. When the official reports of Seeker Ryo's death had come in, he'd taken one look at the picture of the young woman and retched into his wastebasket. The sight ofher skull smashed in with a hammer and her soul pulled out of the back of her neck and lay on her chest in a parody of, of…

Winter leaned against the wall for a second and swallowed the bile in his throat. It would take a thousand more battles for him to get used to the sight of human blood.

There had been an outpouring of sympathy for the Seeker, condemnation for her murderer and cries for the terrorists to be brought to justice. Melanie Stryder's group had released a video in which she spoke for a need for further understanding between the two races; reconciliation was their only hope for survival.

Sometimes Winter wished that the humans would simply sit down and accept their fate. Some had, claiming it a sign from God. What a violent, cruel God they had, a God that would "punish" his children with drowning and fire if they didn't obey his whimsical demands. It made sense, in a twisted way. God was simply a reflection of the humans who had made him.

Winter put the last numbered pin into place. With any luck, he would find a way to capture Alfred Jones and kill him. He wouldn't wish an innocent soul on a devil of a man like him.

_Arthur opened the door to see Alfred leaning against the jamb, cap tilted at a rakish angle. The lines of his crisp dress uniform set off his broad shoulders. He simply stared while the American grinned obnoxiously._

_"You git!" he exclaimed and kissed him, pulling the taller man down to his height. 'Bloody hell, why didn't you tell me you were coming home so early?! I could've made some of that fish curry you love." He picked up Alfred's bag, ushering the man inside. "Have they put you on early leave?"_

_Alfred pried the bag from Arthur's hand and dropped it on the settee and pulled the Briton close to him, resting his forehead against Arthur's._

_"I just want to hold you right now," he murmured. "God, I'm a mess when I leave you." He pushed Arthur onto the settee and kicked off the bag to settle in beside him, sprawling over the smaller man and nuzzling his neck. "I've got a surprise for you this evening. I think you'll love it."_

_"I've got something for you too darling," said Arthur, kissing Alfred's nose. "I fixed your Harley Davidson up. It purrs like a kitten now."_

_Alfred stared down at him, eyes sparkling with wonder. Without further ado, he rained kisses down on every bit of skin he could reach, beaming._

_"You're a man of impressive talents. There's nothing hotter than having a boyfriend who can fix things."_

_"I aim to please," smirked Arthur and rolled his hips against Alfred._

Winter was lying on the floor. He touched his face with a shaking hand and was about to sit up when another round of memories assaulted him.

_"Will you marry me?"_

_Arthur gaped at him. The sun was in his eyes, but he was used to the feeling of being blinded. Alfred was like the sun, bright, white hot and almost overwhelming._

_"I'd really prefer not having to go down on my knees honey, but if I have to-"_

_"No, no. Alfred, are you sure about this?"_

_Alfred rolled his eyes and got down on both knees. Taking Arthur's hand, he kissed it gently._

_"Arthur Kirkland, will you marry me? Will you share a home with me?"_

_He was overwhelmed. All he could do was nod and watch dumbly as Alfred slid a solitaire diamond ring onto his ring finger. He kissed the hand again. "You're mine. You always will be."_

Winter hadn't been able to bring himself to throw away that ring. It hung on a silver chain under his dress shirt. Something so beautiful had to be preserved.

_"I'm not going to argue about you on this. Alfred, you have to run. Get out of here. Send out a message…you knew this was going to happen. I won't let them catch you."_

_Alfred grabbed his face. "Do you swear to come back to me?"_

_"I swear on country, god and you Alfred Jones."_

_Alfred disappeared up the ladder. He knew that his husband was safe now, and as the first Seeker rounded the corner, he stood there, defiant._

His face was wet with tears and he wiped them away roughly. Damn his traitorous body, and its stupid mannerisms. He would find that man and he would bring him to justice. He stood shakily. He would end Alfred Jones.

**NO**

Winter froze completely. That was not his thought.

**That's right. I'm alive you son of a bitch.**

"No," he breathed out. "No, I killed you!"

**It takes more than some self-righteous silver worm to bring a son of London down. Oh, you thought you were so clever, getting all close and personal with my brain. You and that Inrani bitch teaming up to kill Alfred. Like hell I'm going to let you. I am going to make your life a living hell as long as you're in my head. **I am going to make you regret your mother's Sacrifice to the end of days, Feels Winter Wind.****

"You know my thoughts?"

**I know everything. Congratulations on getting rid of Francis, by the way. The frog bastard had it coming to him. He's persistent, I'll give you that.**

"Shut up," he screamed. "Shut up!" Winter caught a glimpse of himself in the window. He looked crazed, face manic and frozen in horror.

**Never. I will never shut up. I will be screaming away in here for as long as I need to. I've all the time in the world. Seeker Ryo's death was painless compared to what I'm going to do to you. I will make you shred this brain we share into porridge. I'll make Alfred rip you out of my head personally.**

**I am going to end you, you miserable parasitic soul. **said Arthur Kirkland, stretching his arms and baring his teeth.


End file.
